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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27642950">Dance with Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Atoms/pseuds/13atoms'>13atoms (2Atoms)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Great (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Catherine playing wingman but in an empress kinda way, Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Orlo is nervous around women</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:22:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,418</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27642950</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Atoms/pseuds/13atoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Request: Reader and Orlo are both forced to join a group dance, and find themselves paired up.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Orlo (The Great TV 2020)/Original Female Character(s), Orlo (The Great TV 2020)/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dance with Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="">
  <p>The straight lines of the grand orchestra instruments in the corner of the ballroom formed a stark contrast to the messy, grotesquely lavish scene the players were overlooking.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Colours swirled around the dance floor as the music swelled, and the noise became overwhelming as the emperor made a raucous call for a group dance. You sighed as a light-fingered hand found your wrist, a light, intoxicated giggle echoing your complaints as you were dragged into a dance by an overeager friend.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You knew better than to protest - you would only capture unwanted attention with your refusal - and instead accepted your fate as couples paired off. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>Shit</em>. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The other dancers were pairing off so quickly you had no time to even strike up a conversation.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Quickly everyone around you had a partner, moving to the side of the circle, leaving the unmarried and unenamoured to be ogled by arm-in-arm couples. Embarrassment was always inevitable at these dances, and heat rose in your face as other nobles were chosen first. Soon you were surrounded, facing a sea of stoic faces as you were left alone.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You could practically sense the Emperor’s approaching mockery, his loud, slurring voice taking cheap shots at you as no one wanted to dance with you.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>You should have left after dinner</em>, you thought glumly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nervously you stepped back, knowing you could only go far before the other side of the imposing circle approached.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You were trapped.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Suddenly your back collided with another warm body, and you whirled around in a gasp, stumbling to apologise as giggles rose over the swelling music behind you. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The dance was about to start.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And you were looking into the warm brown eyes of Count Orlo, flustered and frantically insisting on taking the blame for your collision.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“We don’t have all day!“ Peter called.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Suddenly, Orlo took your hand, assuming the dancer’s pose of everyone else around you.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I am sorry. You seem to be stuck with me, unless you would rather dance alone.“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The pair of you took your first steps, easily adjusting to the rhythm. The Count was a surprisingly adept dancer, even if his palms were a little sweaty, the hand on your waist hovering rather than resting.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I am very grateful to be stuck with you,” you insisted, holding his shoulder before you could convince yourself otherwise. “I am just surprised. I was not aware you danced.“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He gave a nervous laugh, swirling the pair of you away from another couple as you stepped too close. His elegance could rival the court’s finest dancers, and you tried to hide how impressed you were.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Rarely,” he conceded. “Mainly when the Empress goads me into it.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh?“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You had not realised the pair of them were close, but over his shoulder you spotted her watching the pair of you. One eyebrow was raised as the rest of her face remained stoic, and though you swore you saw her raise her glass a fraction, in a tiny toast to no one.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Quickly you averted your eyes, embarrassed she had seen you staring.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I have not had the pleasure of speaking to her,“ you told him, choosing your words carefully. “She looks rather beautiful, though. If I may say so.“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Other peoples’ business was not yours to pry in. And royal gossip was certainly off-limits. Nonetheless, you were curious of her relationship with Orlo. The nature of it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Why had she sent him to dance?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“She is a troublemaker,“ he grumbled, as if you might not notice his words if he spoke them low enough. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You concealed a light laugh at his uncharacteristic insolence towards the crown. They must be friends, you supposed, for him to speak of her that way.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Perhaps more than friends.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“So she insisted you show off your dancing skill?“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orlo simply hummed. You laughed, watching the other dancers over his shoulder.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Truthfully, you were a little embarrassed at your own excitement to be sharing a dance with the Count. The pair of you considered each other near-friends, often sharing conversation at parties, but never anything more than that. You knew him as a kind man, soft-hearted and yet fiercely optimistic to improve Russia for the common man. You rather admired that in him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His good looks, which seemed overlooked by your peers, certainly didn’t help your crush.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As the music slowed and the dance came to an end, Orlo didn’t loosen his grip on you, and you glanced nervously towards Catherine. You were startled to see her still watching you, sipping on champagne.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>There.</em> You had seen a definite wink from the woman.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orlo bowed and thanked you for the dance, a little flustered from forgetting to let go of you, as you tried to discern the meaning of the Empress’ gesture.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The Count didn’t stray far, as the next song began, but this was a rather jollier number. As soon as he had reached out his hand, and you had accepted it, the time came to swap partners.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Again and again, you found yourself moving to dance for a few bars with friends and strangers alike. Some old, some young, some pleasant, some downright leery,  each new man who picked up your hand lasted only a few moments before the time came for everyone to move again.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Your mind was still spinning from the previous dance, from the Empress’ self-satisfied expression at the two of you dancing together. Your thoughts were stuck on the man. Yet each time you looked around the ballroom to seek out Orlo, you realised he must have the same thoughts.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His eyes were constantly pinned on you.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And, on his face, an expression you had never thought possible from him: jealousy. It was a wonder he had not turned green from it, as he glared at your dance partners. When you met his eyes his face softened, his current partner forgotten as he looked at you with such longing you could hardly believe it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>How had you not seen it before?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As the song ended, he carelessly discarded the older married woman he had been dancing with, shooting her a muttered apology. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Through the noble crowds the two of you were usually so afraid to upset, Orlo pushed his way to you.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Hello,“ you greeted, confused.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orlo looked breathless, as you he had been running, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest in the same way.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Across the room, Catherine was watching with interest, and you wondered if perhaps there was more than one conductor in the room, orchestrating a rather different tune all together. From the glance Orlo shot her, perhaps he knew of her intentions too.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The Count’s confidence seemed suddenly vanished. He seemed incapable of speaking, standing mutely in arm’s reach, immune to the music and the shuffling feet around you. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You stepped a notch closer to him, keen to break him from his strange stupor. The image of his face as he saw you across the room was still in your mind, as he looked at you with soft eyes, his forehead lined with one of the millions of worries which always seemed to be on his mind.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Why is the Empress so interested in your dancing?“ You prompted him softly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orlo sighed, his expression turning to the ground, and you wondered if it would be appropriate to reach out and comfort him. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>With a deep sigh, he spoke, his voice so beautifully soft that you were forced to lean closer to listen over the din of dancers, music, and drunken conversation.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Because, she knows of my truly embarrassingly deep affections... Not that you are embarrassing, of course. Oh, god. No. Quite the opposite. I simply... have been too much of a coward to act on my feelings.“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As the next dance began, Orlo had still not reached out for you. The pair of you were still, pillars in a sea of movement. You reached out to his limp arm, pulling it to your waist and greeting his shocked face with a kind smile.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The pair of you began to sway in time with those around you, though some couples were beginning to peel away, no doubt heading to their rooms.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orlo’s eyes were filled with a wonder and a hope you could never get tired of, even as nervousness seemed to inhabit him from head to toe. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You leant in as you spoke to him, your words meant only for him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“How embarrassing, then, that I fear I feel that same way.“</p>
</div>
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